I am sitting in an internet cafe in Bagamoyo, Tanzania. This morning was typical, I woke up and got ready for yet another incredible day. There was no disappointment, if anything, it was one of the best.

I went to Mlingutini Primary School quite far away from Bagamoyo and walked into an eager classroom. As us volunteers organized ourselves, a young three year old stumbled into the room and sat next to a young girl, who was easy assumed as an older sibling. When we started the class, the girl, Wa, had her younger brother go outside. I didn't think much of it until recess.

The jumping ropes were spinning in full force, the American football was being thrown with surprisingly good spirals, and the frisbees were slicing the cool air under the beaming sun. The young boy was walking around, no parent in sight. After some time, I learned that both his parents were at work and siblings were in school. Thus, the three year old was left to fend for himself.

He was clearly suffering from malnutrition (physical signs of body shape, etc. were obvious) and after a local volunteer assisted me, we learned that he was also suffering from some sort of severe illness - possibly typhoid. Fortunately, there were multiple volunteers in my class this day so I was able to spend an hour with the boy. He gulped down a water bottle and was much more talkative then. I brought him into the class, feeling sad, upset, even angry that the people responsible for this child were just leaving him alone.

The moment he came into the classroom, I learned something though. I learned the try meaning of community. We often hear in the Western world that a community raises a child in Africa, not just the family. I brought the boy into the classroom and his sister was on the other side, distracted, and unaware. Other children though sat with him and gave him a marker while I gave him paper. He sat, thrilled to be included, and scribbled for quite some time.

When it was time to leave, the boy was crying and trying to race pass his sister to run to me. My heart wrenched as I said, "tutaonana kesho..." It was not enough. We came back to him and all the children crowded around us. Two other volunteers and I said goodbye as we gave him a small piece of candy. As we turned, I was amazed. The other older children did not want candy, did not want attention, but screamed and howled and danced around the young baby distracting him and amusing him while we left. I will forever remember this young boy, the struggles that he will face, and the incredible support he has. As I sit here typing, listening to singing children outside, I realize that not only can Africa learn from the Western world, but the Western world still has much to learn.